


Three Embraces

by Kanouchi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hugs, Mandothon2020, Touch-Starved, din djarin receives three (3) hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanouchi/pseuds/Kanouchi
Summary: Three times Din Djarin got a hug.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 187





	Three Embraces

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mandothon Day 28 prompts: embrace; remembrance.

It’s been so long, _too long_ , Din realizes, since he has felt anything like this. The last time, he wasn’t wearing armor. Because last time he was still a child. It feels different now. But good, still good.

Omera’s arms have encircled him now, gripping him tight around his middle, her head resting against his shoulder. At first he isn’t sure what to do with his hands before he finally rests them against her back. One by one, his muscles relax, and he even squeezes her a little, his chin coming to rest against her head.

With the armor, it’s a little clunky and awkward as they stand alone in the hut. But he can still feel her, even through the armor. Feel her softness and warmth. Feel her breathing as she rises and falls against his embrace. And she, he realizes, can feel his breathing.

“We’re going to miss you Din,” she murmurs. And he can feel the vibration of her voice against him. He’s never felt that before. Never been close enough to. Her voice drops to a whisper. “ _I’m_ going to miss you.”

Din’s heart skips and subsequently drops at her words. At what he’s doing, and what it means for them. _Leaving_.

He can’t find any words, so he just holds her tighter. He has no idea how much time has passed before they finally break apart.

* * *

“ _Din_.”

Cara’s voice cracks with relief when she finally sees him. His armor is tarnished with ash and soot, but he’s okay. He begins to tell her as much, but before he can say anything, she takes his hand and pulls her against him.

Din freezes for a moment, unsure what to do. Cara is gripping him tight. This is different than with Omera. Cara is squeezing him so hard that even with the armor, breathing is becoming difficult.

“ _Damn you_ , Djarin,” Cara curses over his shoulder, and her voice breaks. “I thought you were a goner.”

Din lets out a breath and finally wraps his arms around her torso, matching her tight hold and patting her on the back.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs. “I’m alright.”

Unlike Omera, it’s only a couple of moments before Cara releases him. Once they’re face-to-face, she nods and gives him a self-conscious pat on the shoulder before turning and striding away, calling for him to come on. Din follows without a word.

* * *

Din has already tried the usual things. Offering bone broth, rocking the kid’s cradle. But the wailing persists. Din is holding the child in his hands a short distance away from himself, staring into those deep black eyes that are wet with tears as the child continues his distressed wailing.

“What do you need?” Din implores, but the child only answers with more crying.

Din tries to think for a moment, mind foggy with chronic exhaustion. He wishes he had some way to let the child know he’s okay, everything’s okay. _Buir_ will take care of him.

Din sits down, setting the kid in his lap with a sigh. The kid, finally free from Din’s grasp, shifts toward his armored torso, tiny hands clawing at his cuirass.

Din freezes.

He takes hold of the child again, but now, hesitantly, brings him to his chest until the baby is flush against it. Those tiny clawed hands do what they can to grip onto Din’s shoulders as he wraps his arms around the baby. Sure enough, the cries quiet almost immediately as the kid’s breathing becomes slower and finally more even.

Din’s heart swells, and he reminds himself that he can’t hold the kid too tight, even though he wants to. He settles for stroking a thumb against his smock as he counts every tiny breath the kid makes. It isn’t long before there, seated in his cockpit with the child in his arms, sleep claims Din too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I don't write often but I really wanted to submit something for Mandothon. I felt inspired a few weeks ago by the idea of Din getting/learning to give hugs.


End file.
